


And Nothing Else Matters

by Jaysop



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angst, Back Alley Sex, Emetophilia, Fluff, Hangover, M/M, Sick!Dean, Sickfic, Vomit, Wincest - Freeform, an absurd amount of cuddling, sick!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 10:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1600772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaysop/pseuds/Jaysop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is pissed, Dean needs to get his shit together, and Cas finds out what ‘day drunk' means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Nothing Else Matters

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been kicking around this idea in my head since I finished The Turnpike. I love the idea of what the boys do in their down time. If it were up to me there would be so much more of this in the show. _So_ much more. So I guess this could be a sort of “part two” of The Turnpike, or not. It can be read alone but it’s the same AU. Since I can never seem to get a full day to myself to write lately it’s been real slow going but I hope worth the wait.

Dean stared absently into his half empty glass swirling the remnants of his Jack Daniels before downing it. His mind was still racing, thoughts whizzing around in his head like that voice on the radio that reads all the legal crap at the end of car ads; loud, annoying, and unintelligible. There was only one off switch that he knew of and that was unconsciousness. Unfortunately for Dean, his high tolerance for alcohol made that goal almost unreachable.  It was a temporary solution anyway; his brain would resume its obsessive ranting the moment he woke up.

Dean blinked with heavy eyelids as he noticed the glass in front of him was magically full again. He got so trapped in his own head sometimes the world around him just melted away into nothing. It was something Sam didn’t hesitate to call him out on, and lately it had been a source of conflict between the two brothers.

***

“I’m sick of it,” Sam had said. “It’s like…you’re here and I’m here with you…but where the fuck are you _really_ Dean? You’re a million miles away and…I’m just sick of it, ok.”

“Well _excuse me_ for having a lot on my mind right now, Sammy.” Dean was raising his voice; he hadn’t meant to but he was. He was well aware of how fucked up his head was. He didn’t need Sam reminding him.

“Whatever,” Sam said. If they were at the bunker Sam would have stormed off to the library to stifle his anger and frustration by burying his face in a book. Instead, they were in a too-small-for-three-grown-men motel room.  Sam flipped open his laptop and started typing furiously.

“I’m sorry Sammy, I just--” Dean tried to swallow his pride with one of his patented “sort of” apologies but Sam cut him off.

“I don’t want ‘sorry’, Dean,” Sam stopped typing to glare up at Dean from the room’s only bed. “I think you should just go.”

“But Sammy--”

“No Dean. Just go. And don’t come back until you get your shit together.” Sam averted his gaze back to his computer screen. “I’m done.”

“Where are we going?” Cas had just emerged from the bathroom, his hair all wet and roughed up from the shower, completely unaware that the brothers were fighting again.

“Have you ever gotten day drunk, Cas?” Dean asked. Sam shot him a look.

“That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, Dean.” Sam was hoping maybe Dean would do something healthy like go for a run to clear his head or maybe work on the Impala, not sit in some dive bar getting obliterated at 11 in the morning.

“Day…drunk..?” Cas looked confused. He felt like he spent more time trying to decipher what Dean was talking about then actually understanding him.

“Yeah, common, you’ll love it.” Dean had already grabbed his jacket and keys and was dragging Cas behind him.

“Hey, you better not…” Sam was interrupted by the door slamming shut behind them. “…be driving. Damn it, Dean.”

***

Dean rubbed his eyes and drew in a long breath hoping when he pulled his hands away he would have learned how to focus again. He squinted at the pretty brunette behind the bar realizing she must have been the culprit behind his suddenly full glass. She shot him a glance over her shoulder as she walked away to serve beer to the other blurry patrons seated at the bar. Dean tipped up his chin and gave her his best “come take care of me, I’m broken” look. In his inebriated state it just came off as kind of creepy.

The sneaking realization hit Dean that at some point during the first bottle of Jack he had consumed he had lost track of his ex-angel companion. The place was a hole in the wall so Dean knew he couldn’t be far if he could just get his damn eyes to focus.

“Dean!” Cas was running up to him grabbing his arm to pull him to his feet.

“Well speak a the devil…oh wait…nevermind,” Dean slurred steadying himself on the bar.

“Dean, you have to see this!” Cas was like a little kid on a sugar high when he got drunk, all full of happy energy. He was frantically trying to pull Dean away from his dark little corner of the world. Dean spun around to grab his full glass spilling half of it in the process.

“Whadaya want Cas, I’m kinda busy here,” Dean slurred out.

“I want to show you something!” Cas dragged a very drunken Dean past a dilapidated pool table to a dark corner of the bar that sported a dart board. Cas was holding six small shiny darts in his hand. Dean pulled a chair away from a table and fell into it.

“You wanted to show me a dart board?” Dean asked before taking a gulp of whiskey.

“Do you remember when you tried to teach me how to play pool?” Cas asked as he readied a dart taking aim.

“Yeah,” Dean said with a chuckle, “I remembered you sucked at it.”

“I think I found a game that I do not suck at,” Cas said triumphantly throwing a dart and hitting the board dead center.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Dean stared wide eyed at Cas. “Ain’t you just full a surprises.”

Dean’s angel backed up a few paces and proceeded to throw the remaining darts each one hitting its mark perfectly. Cas smiled a wide drunken grin at Dean, quite pleased with himself. He walked over to the dartboard collecting each dart from their near perfect circle. When he returned Dean playfully smacked his ass.

“So I guess that’s _two_ things you’re good at.” Dean let out a rough throaty laugh, the first one Cas had heard in he couldn’t remember how long. Cas gave back a coy smile, a rare show of emotion that Dean knew was reserved only for him.

“It’s too bad Sam isn’t here to see this,” Cas said before throwing again hitting a perfect bulls eye every time. Cas had become more attached to Sam after the two of them recently admitted there feelings for each other. Dean was strangely ok with that; he knew whatever Cas and Sam shared couldn’t hold a candle to the bond he had with his angel. Even though his angel mojo was on hiatus at the moment, he would always be ‘Dean’s angel’. No one could take that away from him. The mere mention of his younger brother’s name however made his chest feel tight.

“Yeah,” Dean said his demeanor shifting back to a melancholy grimace. He downed the rest of his drink and returned to his thousand yard stare, the one Sam knew meant Dean had checked out from reality.

Dean absolutely hated fighting with Sam. He loathed it.  It ate away at his insides like a metal spoon scooping out the soft flesh of a cantaloupe. It hurt more than any injury he had ever sustained on a hunt and more than the guilt that kept him up at night.

Things had been pretty bad for awhile. There was a time, not too long ago, when the brothers went their separate ways and Dean had been a miserable wreck the entire time. There hadn't been enough alcohol in the world to dull the pain that gnawed at him when Sam was gone. Cas had tried to help but Dean did what Dean always does in a time of mental crisis, he pushed everyone that cared about him away.

***

“Go away!” Deans voice was muffled through the bathroom door of a seedy little motel in Easton, PA. Cas had forced them to stop for the night after Dean almost wrapped the Impala around a tree, his mind wandering at a very inopportune time. It was late at night in the middle of February and the heat wasn’t working right in the Impala. Honestly, Cas had ulterior motives for asking to stop; he just wanted to sleep in a warm bed. But when Dean had drifted onto the rumble strip only to snap back to reality just in time to swerve back onto the road Cas had had enough. Cas suspected the whole incident had scared Dean a bit more then he let on and was probably the reason why he had locked himself in the bathroom with a half empty fifth of whiskey.

“I just want to know you’re alright,” Cas was banging on the door. “Dean…if you don’t let me come in there…we’re about to lose our deposit.”

Dean knew he wasn’t kidding. The lock clicked and Cas pushed open the door to find Dean crumpled on the dirty bathroom floor.  As soon as he looked up to meet Cas’ concerned blue eyes, Dean started sobbing. Cas knelt down and immediately pulled Dean into his arms, the sound of Dean’s misery being muffled as hot tears soaked into the ex-angel’s shirt.

“You really miss him, don’t you?” Cas was trying to comfort Dean but he felt out of his element. Nothing he did seemed to work. Cas wished _he_ could be enough. He wished he could take away the pain somehow, cursing the loss of his angelic powers. Dean was shaking, the fit of tears racking his whole body to its core.

“Cas…” Dean managed to choke out his name. “He’s not coming back…is he?”

Cas held him close, rocking back and forth like a mental patient in solitary. He didn’t have an answer for Dean, at least not one that would be of any help. It was strange to see him like this. Cas was so used to Dean being this solid rock of masculinity. To see him break down, well, it was unnerving to say the least. 

“He’ll come back,” Cas soothed as Dean tucked his head under the crook of Cas’ neck. And that was the first white lie Cas had told since becoming human. He honestly wasn’t sure if Sam would ever come back. But he also didn’t want to find out what that would do to Dean or what it would do to him. Cas had risked his own life to save Dean on several occasions and he wasn’t about to lose him this way. He held him tighter, waiting for the shaking to stop, but when Sam was gone, nothing else mattered.

***

 

Dean was still lost in his head, memories playing back in explicit detail like a black and white movie reel. That’s what scared him most right now, losing his brother again. Dean didn’t always show it but he loved Sam more than anyone else in this world, except for maybe the giddy drunken man in the trench coat beside him. Dean finished his drink and sighed deeply. His life was too complicated.

“Dean?” Cas was standing in front of the hunter with a concerned look on his face. Dean braced an arm against the table and tried to rise to his feet unsuccessfully plopping back down in the chair. “Are you alright?”

“Just peachy,” Dean slurred, “You wannanother drink er what, Cas?” Cas caught Dean by the arm during his second unsuccessful attempt to get up and pulled him to his feet.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Cas said snaking an arm around Dean’s waist. “Maybe we should go back to the motel.”

“Nah…” Dean said attempting to walk as Cas lead him through the dimly lit bar towards the glowing neon haze of the exit sign. Cas opened the door leaning into it with his shoulder and lugged Dean out into the waning light of early evening. Dean immediately shielded his eyes and cringed hissing like a vampire thrust into daylight. They had exited out the side entrance of the bar into a rather sketchy looking alley. Cas leaned Dean up against the wall for a moment and fished his old school flip phone out of a coat pocket.

“Who you gonna call, Cas,” Dean smirked with squinted eyes, “Ghostbusters?”

“I do not understand that reference, Dean,” Cas said trying to operate his phone and search for Sam’s number. It was far more difficult than he had anticipated in his drunken state. It didn’t help that this whole phone thing was still new to him, a strange mode of communication that he just couldn’t get used to as much as he tried.

“Hey Cas,” Dean slurred, “The nineties called. They want their phone back.”

“That doesn’t even make sense De--” Before Cas could finish Dean pulled him into a sloppy drunken kiss. Cas dropped his phone on the hard concrete and it came open, the battery going in one direction and the case in another. Dean was radiating heat and Cas tasted the sour tang of whiskey on his lips. His warm hands were suddenly inside Cas’ coat fumbling to untuck his button up shirt and maneuver inside to explore the curving expanse of the ex-angels chest. His hands burned against Cas’ cool skin the contact making him gasp. Cas reacted instantly and pushed Dean up against the wall pressing against him hard and kissing him back with brutal intensity.

“I don’t know about you,” Dean said between heavy panting, “but I don’t feel like going back yet…do you?”

“No…I don’t,” Cas said his voice deep and breathless. He was grinding his hips against Dean completely lost in the moment and giving zero fucks that it was still light out and that they were in a very public place. Dean grappled with the button on Cas’ pants and finally succeeded in undoing it, one hot hand sliding inside to fondle him through his boxers. Cas moaned deeply as his eyes fluttered shut and a shiver ran through him. Dean gripped him, hot hands making contact with tender flesh.

“I just …can’t help myself around you Cas.” Dean’s lips were pressed against the side of his face, warm heady breath tickling against his ear. The hunter was elbow deep inside Cas’ pants squeezing him, making Cas groan loudly at each touch. After another meeting of lips and tongues, mouths coming together with an almost violent fervor, Cas slid down the length of Dean’s body until he was on his knees on the jagged pavement. He fumbled with the button on Dean’s faded jeans for what seemed like an eternity, fingers finally finding their way inside. Cas pulled Dean’s jeans down just enough to reveal the head of his ready cock, tongue playing over its already slick surface.

“Oh fuuuuck, Cas.” Dean gripped a handful of wild black hair as Cas’ soft lips enveloped the head of his cock teasing it and eliciting all kinds of obscenities from Dean. If he could make Dean happy even if it was just temporary Cas was willing to do it and he was _damn_ good at making Dean happy if he didn’t say so himself. 

“Cas…ohmygod…so hot…” Dean was muttering incoherently as Cas unzipped his jeans further revealing Dean’s full length. Dean let out a throaty moan as Cas continued to work his cock, getting deeper by degrees after each downward motion. Dean still had his fingers interlaced in Cas’ hair gripping him tight and forcing him to take more inside his mouth. Finally, Cas came down all the way, the head of Dean’s cock brushing past his tonsils and hitting the back of his throat. Dean gasped as his angel actually began to hum as he slid back up slow, tongue caressing the underside of Dean’s pulsing length.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me…Cas…ohmygod, Cas…” Dean had a track record of being especially loud during sex, but coupled with the amount of whiskey he had consumed today he couldn’t keep his mouth shut even if he tried. Cas knew from experience that this wouldn’t take much longer.

Dean was bucking his hips forward fucking the ex-angel’s pretty mouth with abandon. Cas reached around and grabbed Dean’s taut perfect ass holding him in place _and still fucking humming_ sending the most luscious sensations down Dean’s body. Dean cried out something unintelligible as he tensed and shivered. He finally came, fingers gripping handfuls of Cas’ hair, his back arching uncomfortably against the rough brick façade he was pressed against, filling Cas up to the brim like he hadn’t cum in weeks. When Dean finally released him, Cas pulled away with a sloppy sounding plop leaving Dean slick and clean.

Cas was smiling up at Dean quite please with himself. Dean was trying desperately to catch his breath and slow his racing heartbeat. His angel had risen to his feet to put two sturdy arms around him. Dean could feel his stomach starting to turn over uneasily.

“Cas…I…uh…” Dean stammered his heart still racing wildly, “I think I’m gonna be sick…”

“Well, that wasn’t the reaction I was going for but--” before Cas could finish his hunter’s knees buckled and Dean slid down the length of the wall breathing in short heavy gasps. His head swam for a moment as the world spun around him. Dean’s vision narrowed and stars danced in front of his half open eyes. He knew he was going to pass out; there was no escaping it. Suddenly, Dean thought unconsciousness wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

“Dean? Dean?!” Cas was at his side with a cool hand touching his cheek when his vision finally returned.

“Cas…” Dean blinked up at his angel’s fretful blue eyes. Cas looked worried and definitely worse for wear.

“You were out for a minute, Dean. Can you stand?” Cas shouldered most of the hunter’s weight hoisting him up. Dean braced himself against the wall before attempting a few guarded steps forward.

“That’s it… just lean on me…” Cas was speaking gentle words of encouragement when Dean suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He pulled away from Cas and dropped to his knees. Cas dropped with him, a hand wrapped around his middle, the only thing holding him upright.

Dean closed his eyes and gagged. A painful sounding retch followed but nothing came up. He tried to shake it off but after another heave his body was convulsing as he vomited violently onto the pavement. When it was over his head was swimming, beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead. Another gag and Dean was vomiting again, the retching racked his body making it hard breathe. Cas rode out the ordeal with him, making sure Dean didn’t collapse. By the time it was over Dean was all dead weight in his arms, shivering and gasping for air.

“It’s ok, I’ve got you,” Cas found himself saying. It wasn’t too long ago that Cas had experienced being sick for the first time since he lost his grace. Dean had been by his side through it all comforting him, assuring him that he wasn’t going to die. Cas remembered the hunter holding him as he lost everything on the side of the road. He remembered feeling safe in Dean’s strong arms. Dean gagged again and a trickle of liquid burned its way up his throat.

“I’m here, Dean,” Cas was rubbing Dean’s back, the way Dean had done for him. He understood the reason behind it now as he watched Dean continue to suffer. After a few more dry heaves Dean coughed and spat on to the pavement apparently finished for the moment.

“I’m ok now…I think,” Dean choked the words out, his voice hoarse and pathetic. He wiped his sleeve across his mouth and tried to catch his breath. His stomach still felt heavy and his head had begun to throb. Cas was still rubbing circles in his back, his blue eyes wide and swimming with concern.

“I should call Sam,” Cas finally said his voice deep and steady.

“No, Cas. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”Dean was attempting to stand again when Cas lifted him to his feet.

“You don’t look fine, Dean,” Cas said shouldering Dean’s dead weight with a grunt. Dean was a lot heavier then Cas, all solid muscle. It was times like these Cas missed the benefits of his angelic strength. The pair walked slowly towards the Impala, it just occurring to Cas that he had left his phone in pieces in the alley.

“Cas?” Dean was squinting at him with puffy green eyes.

“Yes, Dean?” Cas was wondering if they shouldn’t stop for a break. He could see the Impala in the parking lot and it might as well have been a million miles away. Dean was staring at him, glassy green eyes brimming with emotion. It didn’t happen often but Cas thought he saw tears welling up in Dean’s eyes.

“I love you, man.” Dean’s voice cracked and he started sobbing. If Sam had been here right now he never would have let this one go. Dean was having a genuine chick flick moment.

“I know,” Cas said softly, “I love you too, Dean.” He heaved Dean back up onto his shoulder and they walked the rest of the way in silence.

***

The sun was beginning to set and Sam was starting to worry. He had called Cas’ phone a dozen times with no answer. He had called Dean’s phone too only to hear it ringing from the night stand where he had left it.

Sam wasn’t even mad anymore at least not for his previous reasons. Now his mind was racing with possibilities; the possibility that Dean had wrapped the Impala around a telephone pole, the possibility that he had finally drank himself to death, the possibility that his brother was gone for good this time and that he let him leave angry. Now Sam was mad at himself for driving Dean away in the first place. If Dean and Cas didn’t come back it would be on his conscience.

“Fuck,” Sam said under his breath. He dialed Cas’ number again and let it ring.

***

After ten minutes of Dean frantically checking every pocket for his keys only to realize he had left them dangling in the ignition and then another ten minutes of Dean arguing that he was ok to drive Cas finally settled the hunter in the passenger seat. The ex-angel slid into the driver’s seat and spent _another_ ten minutes adjusting mirrors and playing with the tilt of the steering wheel.

“This is _exactly_ why… I don’t let _anyone_ …drive my baby,” Dean slurred, placing emphasis on each word. “I had her just the way I like her…and you fucked it all up, Cas.”

“I _cannot_ let you drive, Dean,” Cas said his voice stern. Dean rolled his eyes and settled in curling up against the passenger side window.

“Just watch the pot holes, ok?” Dean said closing his eyes. Cas turned over the engine and slowly reversed out of the parking spot before pulling away. He found it hard to keep his eyes on the road sneaking a look every so often to make sure Dean was ok. After a few minutes Dean’s breathing started to even out, the rhythm of the road lulling him to sleep.

***

Cas was glad when he saw the motel’s glowing neon sign come into view over the horizon. He was starting to find it difficult to keep his eyes open.

Sam was literally getting his coat on to leave and look for them when the familiar headlights of the Impala came into view from the motel’s window. Sam pulled back the curtains to witness Cas stumbling out of the driver’s side door.

“Thank god,” Sam said under his breath, not out of reverence but out of habit. Sam stepped out of the room breathing a silent sigh of relief at the sight of Dean plastered against the window, his hot breath fogging up the glass.

Sam wanted to run across the parking lot. He wanted to scoop his brother up and carry him back the room. He wanted to kiss him and hold him and tell him how stupid he was. And he wanted to throttle Cas for not answering his phone. Instead he took a deep breath and walked calmly over to Cas who was trying to get his sea legs it seemed leaning up against the open door of the Impala.

“Hello, Sam,” Cas said slamming the door shut a little too hard. Dean roused in the passenger seat. He looked around confused blinking up at the bright lights of the motel, not sure how he had gotten there.

“Cas, where the hell were you?” Sam scrunched up his nose at the strong smell of alcohol radiating off of Cas. “Ok, better question…why didn’t you answer your fucking phone?”

“My phone,” Cas repeated feeling his pockets for the device. “Ah, my phone. I dropped it in the alley.”

“You dropped it in the alley. Oh, of course.” Sam’s voice was dripping with sarcasm as he walked around to the passenger side of the Impala to open Dean’s door.

“Sammy!” Dean was grinning wide up at his younger brother. “Well ain’t you a sight for sore eyes!”

“Oh _god_ , Dean…” Sam said taking a step back and stretching the neck of his t-shirt up over his nose. Dean smelled like a very overpowering combination of whiskey, sex, and vomit.

“I’m glad to see you too, Sammy,” Dean said attempting to get out of the Impala still trapped in the seatbelt Cas had forced him to put on. Sam took a deep breath and released the belt lifting his older brother from the car. Dean stumbled awkwardly and Sam ended up practically carrying him.

“Sssammy?” Dean slurred as his glassy eyes floated up to meet Sam’s gaze.  

“What, Dean?” Sam projected gruff aggravation, the tone of voice he was supposed to have right now he mused. It was, in fact, the complete opposite of the elation he felt at having Dean back, warm and real and alive. But Sam wouldn’t let his older brother in on that little secret; there had to be some consequences even if they were faked on his part.

“I don’ wanna fight wit’ you anymore, Sammy,” Dean said his voice serious and pleading.

“I don’t want to fight either, Dean,” Sam said pushing the motel door open with his hip. Cas wasn’t far behind and caught the door as the brothers shuffled inside.

Sam helped Dean to the edge of the bed and his older brother immediately collapsed on top of it. Without words Sam pulled off Dean’s shoes tossing them into the corner with a thud. Cas sat down on the floor with a grunt leaning against the side of the bed legs spread out in a V. Sam crossed the room to grab a trash can. He returned placing it next to the bed knowing full well he wasn’t going to get much sleep tonight.

“Thanks for getting him back safe, Cas,” Sam said his voice low. Dean was already passed out and beginning to snore softly as Sam sat on the edge of the bed gazing down at his stupid drunken brother. Sam pulled Dean on to his side just in case, hoping to prevent a Hendrix-like demise because wouldn’t that be ironic after all they had been through. Cas reached up to place a warm palm on Sam’s leg and they exchanged glances. Sam rolled his eyes and roughed up Cas’ already disheveled hair with one massive hand.

“He is so stubborn. I was going to call you,” Cas said trailing off before hiccupping.

“Stubborn doesn’t even start to describe him, Cas,” Sam said a big hand caressing Dean’s fiery cheek. Cas leaned up against Sam’s leg with his forehead resting against the younger hunter’s knee. The hand that he had placed on Sam’s leg earlier curled around the back of his calf. Cas closed his eyes and moaned in obvious discomfort.

“I don’t feel so good…” Cas said as he began to swallow more frequently, the taste of stale beer rising up in the back of his throat.

“Gonna get sick?” Sam handed the trashcan to Cas who hovered above it hesitantly. He let out a wet burp that tasted like he had swallowed a whole liquor store, and he would know. Cas spat into the trashcan shuttering.

“It’s better to get it out Cas, trust me,” Sam said as Cas struggled against the inevitable.

“You might not want…to be here for this…” Cas said between burps. His body tensed and he gagged, a trickle of vomit passing his lips. Sam didn’t want to be there, it was true, but he swallowed hard and pushed down his own feelings of nausea as he slowly sat down on the floor. Cas knew Sam had a weak stomach when it came to things like this. The fact that Sam was leaning against him with a steady arm at his back carried that much more weight. He was passed the point of being able to talk at the moment or he would have expressed his gratitude.

Cas heaved again bringing up a few more trickles of burning liquid. He had just enough time to suck in a quick breath before the flood gates opened and he was spilling everything in a putrid torrent into the trash can. The retching sounded awfully painful to Sam who took care to look away as it happened, the sound of it almost being worse.

This went on for several minutes until Cas had almost filled the trashcan half way. Sam had a large hand on the back of Cas’ neck, his eyes averted to the floor in front of him, feeling a little ill himself. Cas was breathing hard like he had just been running, a cold sweat breaking over his body. He spit one last time into the trashcan and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.

Sam took the can from him placing it as far away as his absurdly long arms could reach without getting up. He pulled Cas to his chest and Dean’s angel leaned heavily against him trying to retrain his lungs how to breathe.

“Feel better, now?” Sam whispered. Cas sighed in the affirmative as he felt Sam begin to card his long fingers through his hair. Cas loved Dean; they had a connection he knew he’d never have with anyone else. But Sam, Sam was different. There was a gentleness to him, a quiet patience that Cas found ultimately comforting. And whereas Cas and Dean fit together like two puzzle pieces, Sam’s embrace completely encompassed him. Sam’s wide chest and lanky arms surrounded him. It reminded Cas of the way if felt to be held when he was still young by his older brothers in heaven, soft feathers enclosed around him protecting him from harm. Cas closed his eyes and breathed Sam in, the soothing mixture of Cool Water cologne and cheap motel soap filling up his lungs.

Sam was just realizing that he hadn’t worried about anything happening to Cas; he had been completely fixated on Dean the whole time they were gone. Cas had only been human for a short time. Sam sometimes forgot that he bled and got sick just like the rest of them now. He pulled Cas closer placing a kiss on his forehead. Cas wriggled an arm around Sam’s waist milking this moment for all it was worth. Their relationship was still new; there were many things they had yet to learn about each other that both men delighted in discovering. Like the fact that Cas loved the feeling of someone playing with his hair, or the fact that Sam loved to cuddle after sex.

Cas fought to stay conscious but the gentle thumping of Sam’s heart beat and the feeling of his lungs rising and falling with each breath had begun to lull him to sleep. Sam held him as he drifted into unconsciousness fingers lingering in his hair. He felt Cas’ body relax against his chest as his breathing began to even out. It was barely 10 at night and Sam wasn’t the least bit tired, maybe a little emotionally exhausted but not sleepy. He watched over Cas in silence, the only sounds occasionally coming from Dean as he mumbled in his troubled sleep. Sam laid his head against the side of the mattress, Dean’s arm out stretched over his shoulder, a warm palm resting against Sam’s cheek.

***

Sam must of fallen sleep because when he opened his eyes the clock on the end table was glowing 3:24 am and Cas was no longer nestled in his arms. The door to the bathroom swung open shining a long sliver of light across the floor. Cas emerged with the offending trash can he had cleaned out and walked back over to Sam.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Cas said as he sat back down on the floor next to the younger hunter. He placed the can by the head of the bed. Sam turned to check on Dean who was still in the same position he had left him in, his breathing deep and steady.

“He’s not going to be any fun when he wakes up tomorrow,” Sam said turning to Cas who let out a long yawn. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I could sleep for a solid week,” Cas said in his usual serious tone. “And I think I am…how would Dean put it…frustrated.”

Sam raised an eyebrow as Cas adjusted himself.

“Wait…you mean like… _frustrated_?” Sam said laughing, “Did you have some nice dreams?”

“No,” Cas said pausing to think about how to word it, “Dean started something earlier…that he could not finish at the time.”

“Oh,” Sam said chuckling at Cas’ apparent distress. “Well…I suppose I could help you with that…you know…if you want.”

Cas didn’t protest when Sam began to unbutton his shirt. He didn’t mind when Sam’s fingers met the expanse of his chest, working their way down to his stomach, caressing the deep arc of his hip. His head fell back against the side of the mattress as he let Sam kiss the curve of his neck, lips trailing over his collarbone as one large hand slid under the waistband of his pants. Cas hastily undid the button to allow the hunter more room to maneuver inside.

Sam was surprised to find Cas already completely hard and he was just the smallest bit upset that he hadn’t started it. Sam tugged at Cas’ pants pulling them half way off him, his hardened cock getting caught in his boxers and hitting his stomach with a little smack that made Sam giggle. Sam reached up to the end table for a small bottle of lube that he warmed in his huge hands before enveloping Cas’ length with them. The slick contact made Cas gasp and moan, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth falling slack in a little o. Sam worked his cock slowly coming up over the head with a little squeeze. Cas was moaning softly, eyes still shut, getting lost in the pleasure he received from Sam’s big hands.

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” Sam was getting excited, the feel of Cas in his fist and the noises that he was able to pull from his lips making the hunter shiver. “You’re making me so hard, Cas.”

Cas awakened from his state of euphoria and began pulling at Sam’s tight jeans. The younger hunter wriggled out of them revealing his full state of arousal and Cas once again marveled at the sheer size of Dean’s brother. Sam was so tall and brawny with big hands and big feet like a puppy that hasn’t quite grown into them yet so it made sense that he was also well endowed. His nickname Moose fit, Cas mused, in many ways.

Cas reached down with silken fingers to lightly touch Sam, hands exploring him, meeting hot sensitive flesh. Cas reached out his palm and Sam filled it with lube without speaking a word. Cas began to stroke him all the while with Sam’s firm grip on his own length, the two getting lost in a daze of bliss.

“Mmm,” Cas was mumbling. His face had come to rest in the crook of Sam’s neck as they continued to stroke each other, Sam’s big hands encompassing Cas like a tight fitting glove and Cas’ velvety fingers teasing the head of Sam’s cock with their unearthly gentle touch.

“I want you so bad, Cas,” Sam said through wavering breaths. “I want you so fucking bad.”

Sam settled back against the bedside kicking his jeans off and pulling Cas in front of him stretching his ridiculously long legs around him.

“I don’t…normally do this,” Sam said pulling Cas’ chin up to meet his intense hazel eyes, “not even with Dean. But I want you to…” Sam trailed off and Cas tilted his head trying to understand what Sam meant. “I want you inside me, Cas.”

Cas blinked up at him as the gravity of what Sam had just said hit him. Sam almost always topped when he was fooling around with Dean and Dean seemed to be the only one out of the two of them that could handle him. The last few times Cas tried had been painful to say the least. But this, this was more than Cas ever expected. There was a simple trust forming between them and Cas felt honored at this honest show of submission.

Cas leaned in for a kiss and it was long and slow. He reached down between Sam’s legs and pressed a slick finger to the puckered ring of muscle. Sam was impossibly tight and it took some work to finally slide one finger inside. Soon Cas had him wide open, one hand stroking him slowly and the other teasing in and out, and in and out until he could slip a second and then a third finger inside.

Sam was getting pretty loud, and it was a real testament to the amount Dean had drank that he didn’t wake up. He didn’t even stir. Cas had just withdrew his fingers and was stroking himself before pressing the head of his cock to Sam’s ready hole.

“Mmm Cas…want you so bad…” Sam was muttering as Cas slowly pushed inside, pausing for a moment before sliding in deeper. Sam was virgin tight, his warmth enveloping Cas and pushing him ever so close to the edge. Sam gripped Cas’ hips pulling his closer until he was buried to the hilt. Cas’ vision swam for a moment before he regained his composure. Sam was so tight he almost came right then. Cas stayed still, buried deep, his cock throbbing painfully, just aching for release. He began to stroke Sam and precum dribbled out across his fingers. Sam pulled the shirt that he was still wearing behind his head so his chest was exposed but his shirt wasn’t completely off.  Cas leaned over him, impossibly close, and suckled at an already hard nipple pulling a deep sigh from Sam’s throat.

“Oh fuck…just like that, Cas,” Sam couldn’t believe the skill at which Cas teased and stroked him. Finally calmed down enough to not instantly cum, Cas started to pump his hips in a slow steady rhythm, the tip of his cock brushing against Sam’s prostate and sending shockwaves through his body.

“Sam…you feel…amazing…” A multitude of praises flew from Cas’ lips and he began to thrust harder and faster, his delicate palm flying swiftly over Sam’s massive length, working him into a frenzy. Sam’s hands were gripping Cas’ hips with white knuckled fingers, the sound of skin on skin contact filling the small motel room.

Sam was pushing back against Cas with every thrust, setting Cas’ senses on fire. For a moment the world slowed down in a Matrix-like haze, and Cas held his breath as he came hard, harder than he had in a long time. The convulsions lasted for what seemed like several minutes and then Sam followed suit, shooting an ample amount over Cas’ fist, leaving long hot streaks on his own stomach.

Cas slid out and collapsed against Sam’s chest, both men breathing heavily, two sticky sweat-slicked bodies pressed up against one another.

“That…” Cas began, still trying to catch his breath, “was wonderful. _You_ were wonderful, Sam Winchester.”

Sam laughed and ran a hand through his long sweaty hair, pushing it out of his eyes. He rested a large hand on Cas’ back feeling his breath start to return to normal.

“I could stay like this forever,” Sam whispered before laying a gentle kiss on Cas’ forehead. Cas had his eyes closed. He moaned in agreement before opening them to gaze up at Sam.

“I would enjoy sleeping in the bed,” Cas said his voice returning to its serious tone. Sam chuckled and pulled his shirt off before wiping down the both of them with it.

“Then the bed it is,” Sam said climbing in behind a very comatose Dean. Cas slid under the sheets alongside Sam and those long arms were around him instantly, encircling him with warmth.

***

It was the crack of noon when Dean finally woke up. He opened heavy eyelids and waited for the world around him to come into focus. When it did a wave of nausea washed over him and he was reaching for the conveniently placed trashcan. Sam and Cas both woke up as the sounds of Dean retching filled the tiny motel room. Sam, who had slept in the middle, was the first to get up. Dean felt his brother’s big hand at his back. It was a comfort he wasn’t used to. Usually when Dean was this hung over Sam just made fun of him and left his to deal with it alone. Dean had always preferred it this way but today was different. Sam was rubbing circles in his back, his voice full of soothing concern.

“Hey, it’s ok, I’m here,” Sam’s voice was low and comforting. Cas had gotten out of bed and was filling a little plastic cup at the sink with water, letting the tap run until it was as cold as he could get it, before greedily chugging the entire thing. His head was thumping and for a moment the ex-angel wasn’t sure if the water he had just drank would remain in his stomach. When he was sure he could move he refilled the cup and returned to the bedside.

Dean had progressed to dry heaving, his empty stomach still intent on trying to escape his throat. Cas offered the water but Dean only took a sip and swished it around before spitting it into the trashcan. He gagged one last time, and Sam could feel the muscles in his back tighten under his long fingers.

“I’ll take that water now, Cas,” Dean finally managed to say. Cas handed him the little plastic cup and Dean took a few hesitant sips. He hovered over the trashcan for a moment before deciding it was safe to set it back on the ground.

Sam was watching over him, and Cas could sense there had been something going on between them, although he still wasn’t sure what. Dean leaned back against his brother who instantly put his arms around him. That was the moment when Dean knew all was forgiven.

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” Dean was saying, his voice almost a whisper, as he tried to stifle the emotional tone of his words. Somehow he was completely ok with Cas seeing him crying like a baby but not Sam. He was the older brother, he had to be strong for Sam. It was a lasting mantra that had carried them this far in life and Dean wasn’t about to let his little brother see him cry.

But Sam knew. He could hear the cadence in those words. And it wasn’t a “sort of” apology either, it was genuine and heartfelt. That’s all Sam had wanted really.

“I’m sorry too,” Sam said his voice low and comforting. Dean turned to meet his brother’s eyes. He threw his arms around Sam and let his tears go silently. Usually Sam would have jumped at this opportunity to provide some good natured brotherly ribbing but he didn’t say a word. When Dean regained his composure he pushed away from Sam shaking it off as if he had something caught in his eye. He looked to Sam and then to Cas, both men staring back at him, faces full of concern.

“Wait…” Dean began with a sniff, “why are you both naked?”

Cas shrugged his shoulders, too hungover to offer an explanation, and Sam just pulled Dean back onto the bed with a laugh, covering his brother with kisses.

***

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
>  
> 
> You can also visit me on tumblr  
> [jay-sop](http://jay-sop.tumblr.com)  
> [little-known-secret](http://little-known-secret.tumblr.com)


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